


The walking paradox

by ItsJina



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet Ending, Cliffhangers, Season gr8, naomi era, season 8 era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsJina/pseuds/ItsJina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester: a man of many complexities and contradictions;<br/>The mind is of the IQ of a genius; sharp as expected of a hunter’s.<br/>But the heart resembles a child’s—pure, and righteous.<br/>Yet the body is like an old man; it is weary and tired.<br/>Dean Winchester—a walking paradox.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The walking paradox

**Dean Winchester** : _a man of many complexities and contradictions;_  
The mind is of the IQ of a genius; sharp as expected of a hunter’s.  
But the heart resembles a child’s—pure, and righteous.  
Yet the body is like an old man; it is weary and tired.  
Dean Winchester—a walking paradox.

—

Her eyes narrows as she puts down his brief summary of Dean Winchester, fingers drumming over it. “Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

He blinks once, the only indication of confusion on his expressionless face. “No. Should I have more to add?” He looks down at the paper again, his mind already rereading the words and thinking of more things he could write.  _'Dean Winchester: a man of many complexities and—'_

"No, this is fine," She says, interrupting his thoughts. She piles the paper onto a stack and leans in her leather chair as her arms crossed against her chest. She’s still staring at him with calculating, maybe even wary, eyes. There’s something tight in her features, as if she is holding back a grimace. He doesn’t understand, as he thinks his assessment of Dean Winchester is accurate.

"Resume your mission," she declares before lowering her eyes to her work. "Report back immediately of anything out of the ordinary. Return in two weeks for another general report."

That is all the dismissal he is given and so he leaves to find his charge.

—

_"Do not interfere nor make yourself known to your charge."_

He follows Dean Winchester around, sometimes sitting with the man or standing. His assessment of Dean is correct, he believes. Peering into Dean’s soul, it is bright, brilliant. It is also battered, bruised. His body is covered in scars, seen and unseen. His heart beats hard, every thump confirming his existence.

Castiel doesn’t understand the purpose of his assignment, but he believes. He has faith in God and Heaven, so he does as he is told.

Just  _watching_  turns out to be harder than expected.

Dean Winchester is endlessly courageous and strong, admirable traits in a human. He finds himself in sticky situations more often than not, but he always ends up alright. 

So when Dean is cornered by a bunch of vampires in an abandoned building during a rainy night, Castiel isn’t concerned. Dean always miraculously turn out okay. His brother, Sam, always comes right on time to help too.

But when his charge gets beaten up and taken back to the coven’s nest instead of getting rescued, his wings twitch. Where is Sam? 

He follows and watches as they chain Dean to a wall. His charge is bloodied, face coloring with dark bruises. Nothing looks broken—yet. One of the vampires stands before Dean, smirking, licking his lips and sharp teeth, an act of intimidation. Dean puts a tough front, always laughing at adversity. He’s reckless and Castiel flexes his fingers, a puff of irritation leaving his lips. A very small thought at the back of his mind wishes Dean wouldn’t be like so, not during such a precarious situation.

Perhaps Dean and Sam have another plan. Perhaps this is part of the plan. But Castiel knows this isn’t true. He was with Dean the entire time when the boys had discussed the plan. For whatever reason, Sam has failed to upheld his part and now, Dean has to improvise, figure something else out, and hope Sam somehow finds him.

It’s a slim chance. Judging by the tense exchanges between some of the vampires leaders, they’re going to act soon. There isn’t enough time for Sam to find Dean.

An idea enters his mind, but he dismisses it. Surely, it won’t come down to having to reveal himself and helping Dean. Surely, if Dean is so important that Castiel is assigned to him, then Heaven would not let him die.

But something inside Castiel wavers as his charge is hurt by the vampires like a punching bag. They question him, demand answers, insult him, and punch him. Minutes passed and no help has come yet. It may not come in time, Castiel fears. A little voice wonders if this is a test, if he is supposed to act if it comes down to it. But it doesn’t make any sense. Why would Heaven want him to go against his orders and help? But then, is he supposed to just watch Dean get hurt? Watch him die?

Eventually, they offer to make Dean a vampire, but Dean spits in their faces, says he’s been there, done that, and it wasn’t very appealing. 

Wrong move.

Before Castiel can stop it, the vampire leader punches Dean  _hard_ , fist splitting skin, crushing ribs and puncturing stomach. Dean spits out blood immediately as he gargles on the wave of liquid rising from his mouth and Castiel _moves_ , without thinking, instinctively.

He grabs the vampire leader first and throws him across the room. There are four others in the dungeon, five waiting outside. The moment Castiel appeared, the four vampires move, hissing with teeth baring despite their shocked looks.

Castiel doesn’t waste time. The closest one—a young lady—comes at him and he raises his palm to her head and kills her,white light burning from inside out. He turns to the others, but they realized they have no chance against him. They run. Only the vampire leader stays and he blindly, angrily, charges at him. Castiel appears from behind him and finishes him off quickly, his body falling into a satisfying thump on the ground.

He thinks about giving chase to the others, but the vampires are not his priority. Dean is.

Immediately, he is at Dean’s side, breaking the metal chains one by one that holds him up. He is so engrossed in this process that he misses Dean’s wide-eyed stare.

_"C-Cas?"_

Castiel looks at him and is taken back at the look of familiarity in Dean’s eyes. He feels the need to introduce himself; he doesn’t understand why Dean is looking at him like that. He didn’t even know about Dean until three weeks ago. “My name is Castiel.” He leaves out the part about being an angel. That may be too much for Dean to comprehend at the moment.

He breaks all the chains and catches Dean, who collapses into his arms, puking more blood and groaning.

"Hold on," Castiel says and puts two fingers to Dean’s forehead.

A blink later, Dean is looking at him breathlessly, but nevertheless, absent of previous injuries. Castiel sighs with relief and he means to move away, but he’s suddenly wrapped in a tight squeeze by Dean.

"Cas!"

If Castiel was human, the squeeze would probably make him unable to breathe. Currently, it just makes him uncomfortable. He’s suddenly aware of the heat, the nonexistent distance between him and his charge, and a vaguely familiar tug in his head and his chest. It’s strange. It feels like  _deja vu_  and the feeling grows stronger as Dean cups his face.

"Where have you been? I thought I—we thought we lost you," Dean’s voice chokes and something,  _something_ , about that rocks Castiel’s core. Something about Dean’s face, his searing touch, as if branding his handprint onto Castiel’s skin. It’s too much, too strange yet not strange. His head  _hurts_.

Castiel steps backward, brushes off Dean’s hands, and he needs to tell Dean who he really is, to draw a boundary line, to make one thing perfectly clear—“My name is Castiel and I’m—”

"An angel of the lord," Dean finishes for him quietly, and a look of horror is upon him. Castiel is surprised that he knows. Why does he know? How? "They’ve reset you back to your factory settings."

What?

Dean is all over him again, clutching his vessel’s tan trench coat, “Cas, Cas, look at me, look at me!”

His eyes focuses on Dean, who is staring at him hard, eyes searching, lips quivering, and something—his chest, maybe something is wrong with his vessel’s heart— _aches,_  and he states again, “My name is Castiel, not Cas—”

Before he can tell Dean that this “Cas” person is not him, despite similarity in name, Dean presses his lips on Cas’s and something explodes.

A kaleidoscope of thoughts, ideas, what feels like memories, rush in his head, his chest blooming with something fiery, his heart pounding obviously now, and he doesn’t understand  _any_  of it.

He pushes Dean away easily, though he feels a sudden need to reconnect the loss of contact. 

A look is shared between them—

Then Dean is gone. The dungeon is gone. Light fills his eyes, the clean setting throwing him off. He turns, and his superior is there.

She looks furious and yells something but there is a roaring in his head and he can’t comprehend what she’s saying.

_'Take him back! Take him back and fix him!'_

Fix him?

Two angels appear besides him, grab his arms, and they vanish from the room.

—

"I told you it was too risky, putting Castiel with Dean so soon. After his report, it sounded too much as if he—"

"I needed to know and now we know."

"Yes, the bond between Castiel and Dean Winchester is strong. Too strong for them to be near each other."

"We will have to take extreme measures to make sure Dean Winchester is completely wiped from his mind."

"Yes. Perhaps the clone simulation."

"Hmm, agreed. If the bond can’t be erased, it can be  _destroyed_.”


End file.
